


Something Sweet

by horrorinabakset



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Found Family, M/M, More tags will be added as the story progresses, Multi, Slow Burn, There will be more characters later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9967862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorinabakset/pseuds/horrorinabakset
Summary: Neil's mother dies when he is fifteen. As a result, Neil ends up in Columbia, at a diner called Sweetie's. There he encounters a rather strange family, a boy raising his twin cousins.





	1. Lollipop

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I would like to begin by thanking everyone who is helping me with this story. You are very much appreciated. For a while I've been playing around with different AU ideas, I hope you all find this one to be interesting. If you have any concerns or questions feel free to contact me at my Tumblr, andrewminyard-josten.

The darkened sky, full of twinkling stars, gleamed above Nathaniel as he stumbled off of the freeway. He finally made it to Columbia. A large city, hopefully far enough away from his father’s people. Three months ago his mother died. Died being too delicate a world. In the span of those three months, Nathaniel succeeded in fleeing across America undetected. Nathaniel briefly entertained leaving the country entirely, but knew it would be difficult without his mother to guide him. Instead, Nathaniel walked across America, avoiding communication with any other living thing. His company consisted of his worn-down duffel bag, which contained the entirety of his possessions.

In the beginning, when Nathaniel first began his lonely trek, he doubted his ability to do even this inconspicuously. Soon, Nathaniel realized people deliberately avoided looking at him. Their eyes quickly darted away from his dirty clothes and greasy hair. His sunken, hungry eyes and hollowed cheeks. It reminded Nathaniel people were cruel. Still, he could hardly blame these people when their actions suited his needs. He needed their eyes to turn away from him, even if only to assuage their own humanity.

Unsure about how much money to spend, Nathaniel decided to spend as little as possible. Most of his money went towards hair dye. Meticulously dying his roots in bathroom stalls, hands shaking as he worried everyone could see through his disguise. Thankfully, Nathaniel already owned a decent amount of brown contact lenses. He put them in every morning, while still facing the ground.

When it came to food, Nathaniel found his in dumpsters. Nathaniel ate what he could, eager to move on quickly. He didn’t need anything else. Except sleep, which could be done outside. Nathaniel preferred parks, with numerous places he could hide. His mother would have been furious at him for sleeping out in the open streets, where anyone could find him. Really, though, it wasn’t Nathaniel’s plan to sleep outside forever. Once he found somewhere to settle down, he would do better. Admittedly, Nathaniel found it difficult to settle because he knew he wasn’t equipped to protecting himself on his own. He made foolish mistakes, as his mother had constantly reminded him. 

When a car honked its horn, Nathaniel cowered. He stumbled, his weak, malnourished knees giving out on him. The fall to the ground hurt more than it should. Nathaniel wasn’t stupid, he knew his body couldn't handle this routine for long. He needed substance. Something to keep him going.

Nathaniel stood on shaky legs and looked around. He didn’t know what time it was, but everything looked closed. Normal people tended to flee from the dark. He squinted, finally noticing a sign that read Sweetie’s in big, bold red letters. Beneath it: open twenty-four hours. Nathaniel stumbled forward, noticing the cheery, almost eighties appeal of the diner. The pops of bright colour, the red and white checkered drapes over long rectangle windows.

Nathaniel hesitated before fully crossing the street. He couldn’t remember the last time he entered a restaurant. Definitely not with his mother. Maybe back as a child, before they ran. Still, the idea of a warm place to sit down and a nice hot meal was difficult to resist. Slowly, Nathaniel started walking forward. When he entered the diner, a soft bell dinged above him. Nathaniel flinched backwards, his heart thumping frantically in his chest. Nathaniel took a moment, catching his breath before he continued forward. The bright lights hurt his eyes, causing Nathaniel to blink rapidly, hoping his contact lenses wouldn’t dislodge.

A boy waited for him at the host booth at the front of the restaurant. Taller than Nathaniel, brown skin, curly-black hair and warm brown eyes. Behind the boy were numerous silver rectangle tables with brightly coloured stool chairs. There were also several booths near the back and by the windows with soft red leather seats. The brown eyes of the boy before Nathaniel looked him over with obvious concern.

“You okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely worried. His tone differed from the self-involved, deliberately obtuse people Nathaniel was used to dealing with. Nathaniel may also not be the most socially conscious person, but he felt positive the host wasn’t supposed to ask that as part of their job.

“I’m fine,” Nathaniel said, his voice raspy from disuse, “table for one.”

The boy hardly seemed to believe him, but nodded in acceptance, a bright smile appearing across his face. The worry still seemed present, hiding in his eyes, but the boy hid it well. He guided Nathaniel to the back of the diner, gesturing for Nathaniel to sit in one of the comfortable looking booths. As one person, Nathaniel did not really need a booth. However, Nathaniel looked around the diner and noticed the many empty chairs, so he decided not to say anything.

“I’m Nicky,” Nicky said, placing a red menu and his cutlery, wrapped in a plain white napkin, in front of him, his smile unwavering even against the force of Nathaniel's blank expression. “I’ll be your server today. If you give me just a moment, I’ll be back with your water and complimentary bread basket.”

Nathaniel nodded, and Nicky gave him another surprisingly gentle look before bounding away. Nathaniel slid the knife out its napkin hold, fidgeted with the sharp edges slightly, before opening the menu. Thankfully, the prices seemed reasonable for a small, local diner. Nathaniel flipped through, trying to find one of the cheapest options. He finally decided on the chicken club sandwich, which came with a choice of potatoes, as well as a soup or salad. Nathaniel knew he wasn’t going to order a desert, but he definitely needed something caffeinated. He decided on a plain black coffee. The free water would keep him hydrated.

Nicky came back quickly, a tall glass of ice-water in one hand and a small basket, over-loaded with bread, in the other. It seemed to be overflowing, far too much to rationally give one person. He placed the water and the bread in front of Nathaniel with his too-cheerful smile. Nathaniel examined his face carefully, suspicious. It dawned on him. When Nicky led Nathaniel to his booth, he did not see anyone else with bread baskets on their tables.

“Are you ready to –,” Nicky started to say, pen and small notebook in hand.

“I don’t need handouts,” Nathaniel interrupted, upset his raspy voice did not allow him to sound as angry as he wished to.

“Pardon?” Nicky said, his smile not even flickering. “I don’t know what you mean, hon.”

Nathaniel would be impressed, except the annoyance simmering inside his gut did not allow for that. Something hot began to bubble inside Nathaniel, encouraging him to lash out. Before the flicker got a chance to actually erupt into flames, Nathaniel stamped it out. He inherited his fiery temper from his father, but this was not the place to let it erupt. Sure, Nicky probably thought he was some drug-addled homeless kid, but that shouldn’t mean anything to Nathaniel. 

His life, after all, had no room for pride.

Nathaniel took in a deep, shuddering breath. The water was likely free. If the bread really bothered him then Nathaniel did not have to eat it.

“Never mind,” Nathaniel said, avoiding eye contact. Nicky looked at him, smile fixed in place, hopefully not realizing what almost occurred. “I’ll have the chicken club sandwich, mashed potatoes, and the vegetable soup. A cup of coffee, as well.”

Nicky's pen, held loosely in his hand, glided across his small notebook. Nicky nodded as Nathaniel spoke, looking up occasionally to make eye contact. He finished writing with a flourish, smiling brightly at Nathaniel, once he looked up for the final time.

“Sounds excellent. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Nicky said. He paused before really walking away. “Eat that bread, won’t you? I can’t serve it to anyone else after giving it to you, so I'll have to toss it if you refuse to eat it.”

Nathaniel said nothing, but tilted his head awkwardly in acceptance, quickly turning his eyes away from Nicky's. Nicky gave him a grateful smile before scuttling away. Nathaniel picked up a bun, holding its warmth in his hands. There were packages of butter in the basket, and Nathaniel could imagine it melting on. His stomach did not make a sound, but Nathaniel could feel it aching. Pride had no place in his life, Nathaniel reminded himself, and cut open a bread bun. He slathered on the butter, and before really thinking about it, shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

It tasted heavenly. A soft sound escaped Nathaniel’s mouth. Nathaniel chewed quickly, and swallowed hard. The force of it felt almost painful. He took several gulps of ice water before repeating the process with the rest of the bread. By the time Nicky came back, Nathaniel managed to finish the basket, leaving only crumbs behind. 

Nicky gave him a relieved smile, and picked up the bread basket. He replaced it with a plate of hot food, placing a large soup bowl beside it. The portions seemed bigger than strictly acceptable, but Nathaniel already decided to stop protesting. Next, Nicky placed down a large cup of coffee. He then placed the entire pot beside it.

Nathaniel gave him a look for that one, but Nicky smiled guilelessly.

“Eat up, hon. Before the food gets cold,” Nicky said encouragingly.

“I will,” Nathaniel said awkwardly, hoping that would make whatever motherly-feelings Nicky had acquired go away. 

Nicky lingered for a moment before leaving. Nathaniel looked down at his food, mouth watering. He pulled the soup close, taking a large spoonful. The burst of flavour, as well as the warmth, hit his tongue and warmed him from the inside. Nathaniel ate greedily, feeling his energy replenishing. When it came to the last little bit, Nathaniel tipped his head and the bowl back so he could have it all.

He ate his chicken club sandwich next. The bread was thick, with nice juicy pieces of chicken. The tomato, lettuce, onion and cheese tasted fresh. Nathaniel consumed his food, taking generous sips of coffee in between bites. He took bites of mashed potatoes while still chewing on his sandwich. When he finished, a little less than half the coffee pot remained. Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, feeling full and satisfied. Nathaniel’s eyes no longer struggled to stay open, and his hands finally stopped shaking.

When Nicky walked back over, he looked pleased. There was a slight bounce in his step as he moved forward, hands swinging from side to side. Despite his otherwise motherly nature, Nathaniel couldn't help but also be reminded of a child.

“All done? Did you want anything else? The ice-cream here is renowned,” Nicky said, clearing the plates by stacking them neatly on his left arm.

Nathaniel shook his head. He didn’t really feel a craving for dessert. Even as a child Nathaniel disliked sweet things.

“Alright. I’ll be right back with your bill,” Nicky said, smiling.

Nathaniel waited for his return in silence. He knew he would be returning outside once Nicky came back, desperately trying to find some park to sleep in for the night. Tomorrow, Nathaniel did not know. Now would be a good time to sort out his new life, one without his mother protecting him. Columbia was a large city, easy to hide in for a short time. One of his mother’s contacts lived close by, he could get her to forge him new identification. After that, Nathaniel did not know. He should continue with the routine. Attend a school, blend in with the rest of society. Stay under the radar, and hope to survive.

“Here you go,” Nicky said, returning quicker than Nathaniel expected, placing the bill, as well as a bright green lollipop on the table. Nathaniel twitched at the surprising close contact, before forcing himself tor relax. He picked up the bill to see his total. 

The total of the bill came to be just under ten dollars. Nathaniel placed a ten on the table, and then an additional five for the tip. He wasn’t sure what to officially tip, and hoped he gave an acceptable amount.

“Thanks, hon,” Nicky said, his smile radiant, “but it’s not necessary. You take this with you, now,” he said, as he tried to hand the five back to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel shook his head, leaning away.

“You’re supposed to tip at restaurants,” Nathaniel mumbled. Besides, Nathaniel wasn’t nearly as poor as he looked. There was approximately three million dollars in his duffel bag that Nicky didn’t know of, as well as locations to hot spots with more money.

Nicky hesitated, looking unsure for the first time.

“Alright,” Nicky said. “You come back sometime, yeah? We have some good specials Friday nights,” he continued.

Nathaniel nodded. Nicky sighed, his smile fading for the first time tonight.

“Be safe tonight,” Nicky said, his eyebrows furrowed like he wanted to say something more. 

Nathaniel nodded again. He scrambled out of the booth once Nicky left, scurrying out the front door. The bell dinged again, not startling Nathaniel nearly as much as it did the first time. However, the sleek expensive car pulling up did. Nathaniel flinched backwards, his back hitting the door as it banged shut behind him. He stared at the black car in fear until two young, they could only be a year or so older than Nathaniel, stepped out of the car. Once they got closer, Nathaniel realized they looked exactly the same.

Along with having the exact same facial features, they both dressed in dark colours. Their blond hair and pale skin looked stark against the dark of the night, and they walked with several inches of space between them. For twins who looked as similar as these two did, they did not appear to be very close. As they walked forward, they did not bother to speak or look at one another. As they got closer, Nathaniel noticed they weren’t much taller than him. One of them reached the door before the other did, and gave Nathaniel a blank look. It took Nathaniel a moment to realize they needed him to get out of the way so they could go inside.

Nathaniel walked around them, avoiding any sort of physical contact. Nobody said anything as Nathaniel walked away. When Nathaniel got a few feet away, he turned around and watched them go inside. Nicky greeted one of the boys with a hug, smiling big at the other one. Nathaniel wondered if they were his friends.

As they went to a booth together, one of the twins looked out the window. Nathaniel flinched back and turned around, hurrying away. The air felt chillier than earlier. December was beginning soon. Nathaniel wrapped his arms around himself as he walked down the middle of the road. He wouldn’t be able to sleep outside for much longer. He definitely needed to figure something out.

After walking for quite a while, Nathaniel found a park near a forest. He walked towards the playground, going to huddle under the slides. He wrapped his arms around his duffel bag and laid his head onto the soft sand. He could rest now. Not that Nathaniel really got much rest since his dreams were always troubled. Images of blood filled them, along with the smell of his mother’s flesh burning away in their last stolen car. Still, it would be nice to fall asleep when he still felt so satisfied. Nathaniel removed his disposable contact lenses, throwing them away into the dirt, and closed his eyes.

Nathaniel woke with a strangled gasp, struggling to breathe. He quickly noticed someone staring at him. Nathaniel cowered, tripping over himself in his eagerness to get away from the unknown figure. His hand reached towards his gun, meant to be tucked in the back of his jeans, before remembering he no longer owned one.

It took Nathaniel a moment to realize this was the same boy from Sweetie’s the night before. One of the twins. He looked younger closer up, with hazel eyes that seemed too large for his narrow face. He wore another all-black outfit, this time with additional black armbands that cut-off at the elbows, a little below where his black t-shirt sleeves ended. Nathaniel stared at the strip of pale skin between where the two shades of black did not meet.

“What are you doing here?” Nathaniel snapped, before realizing how ridiculous he sounded.

Nathaniel clutched his duffel bag to his chest, glaring at the blond boy. He realized this surprise awakening took away his chance to put his contact lenses in. His real blue eyes were staring at this boy in sharp anger. Nathaniel immediately turned away, not making eye-contact. He wondered if the boy realized his eyes were a different colour from last night, but then realized the unlikeliness of that. They met in the dark, and this boy had no reason to look closely at his eyes or remember what colour they were.

“Not sleeping under the slide, that is for sure,” the boy responded, a lit cigarette in his hand that Nathaniel finally noticed.

The boy put it in his mouth and inhaled deeply, exhaling a cloud of smoke that Nathaniel could smell from where he trembled a few feet away. The smell of smoke reminded Nathaniel of his mother, and he felt his body automatically loosen in response

They stared at each other for quite a while, neither of them saying anything. The boy smoked his cigarette, and Nathaniel sat back down in the sand, inhaling the smell of smoke. Eventually the boy finished his cigarette and put the bud in his pocket. He picked up his own bag, a black backpack Nathaniel hadn’t noticed before.

“Are you going to school?” Nathaniel asked, surprising himself. He should have just let the other boy walk away.

He couldn’t tell if he surprised the other boy, who nodded.

“You do not go to school,” the boy said. Nathaniel couldn’t tell if he meant to be deliberately cruel or was just pointing out the obvious.

Nathaniel shook his head. “I used to. I’ll go back soon; I’m just getting myself sorted out.” Nathaniel couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince this strange boy, or himself.

“Sure you are,” the boy said, “try to find somewhere to shower first. The public pool is only a five-minute walk here. Go to the main road and then turn left. It is only three dollars to get in before noon,” the boy said, and walked away. 

Nathaniel watched him go, not sure how he felt. Once Nathaniel could no longer see the boy, he put in his contact lenses before standing up. A part of him wondered if that really happened, or if he dreamed the strange boy into existence this morning after seeing him the night before. He rubbed a hand through his hair, trying to dislodge any dirt that got in it through the night. What a strange encounter. Nathaniel sniffed his clothes, wondering if a shower at the public pool would be a smart move. If he wanted to see Ida Abbott, his mother’s contact today, it might be a good idea to turn up in clean clothes. The orange of the rising sun suggested morning only just came, so hopefully it wouldn’t be crowded. Some public pools even had private stalls. Deciding to take a chance, once Nathaniel reached the road again, he went left.

Nathaniel took the green lollipop out of his pocket, sucking on it as he walked in the direction of the pool. He did not enjoy the taste, but the sugar would keep him energized. Nathaniel walked by what appeared to be the public middle school and the public high school. They were tall, intimidating brick buildings surrounded by barb wire fences. It reminded Nathaniel of a prison. Nathaniel looked at it as he walked by, wondering if that strange boy and his twin were inside. The pool was only a street ahead, a long white building. The smell of chlorine immediately hit Nathaniel when he walked inside, and his nose twitched uncomfortably.

The middle-aged lady at the desk gave him a strange look when he walked in, but said nothing when Nathaniel quickly took his money out. The men’s changing room was devoid of private stalls, so Nathaniel left quickly, avoiding eye contact with the three other older men in there. Two of them were extremely elderly, but one looked to be approximately the same age as his father. Nathaniel wondered if he should leave entirely, but then caught sight of the family changing room. Thankfully there were no families in there, and Nathaniel managed to snag the only enclosed shower.

Nathaniel showered quickly, using the sample sized shampoo and conditioner left in his duffel bag from the last motel he stayed at with his mother. He used the soap dispenser for his body, and didn’t bother to dry off. Nathaniel dressed in his thicker pair of jeans with the least amount of holes, and his warmest grey hoodie. He wondered if he should stay longer in order to keep up the pretense he actually swam. After a few minutes of staring at the graffiti on the door of the shower stall, Nathaniel decided to just leave.

Once Nathaniel left the pool, he felt decently better. Clean, reasonably full, and some sleep meant Nathaniel could now think clearly. He needed to find Ida Abbott today. She lived nearby and would be able to quietly guarantee Nathaniel new identification, no questions asked. At least, for a certain price. Nathaniel sat down on a bench and opened his duffel bag, looking for the coordinates that his mother left him with.

Nathaniel wondered if this would be a good time to call his uncle and let him know his sister was dead. He immediately decided not to. Nathaniel didn’t know Stuart all that well, which meant his behavior was unpredictable. They met once, shortly after his mother ran away from her husband. An unknown, older male figure wasn’t something Nathaniel wanted to deal with at the moment.

Finding Ida Abbott's address was simple, and closer than expected. It would only take Nathaniel two hours to walk to her house. He would be there by noon, and could then figure out what to do before nightfall. Nathaniel began the walk slowly, not wanting to push himself. He didn’t know how much more walking he would need to do today. Maybe he would walk back here. This neighbourhood seemed suitable enough, for now at least.

When Nathaniel reached Ida Abbott’s home he felt uncomfortably out of place. She lived in an obvious upper-class community, where everyone was a doctor or a lawyer. The houses were all identical: large and pearly white. Expensive cars lined every driveway, despite most of the houses having two garages. Nathaniel knocked on the correct door, number forty-four, hoping nobody peaked at him through their curtains. 

An elderly woman with dark skin and long, wispy grey hair answered the door. She gave Nathaniel a practised smile, smoothing down her vibrant purple dress with large oven mitts decorated in bunnies and Easter eggs.

“May I help you, dearie?” she asked, voice frail and kind. Nathaniel didn’t trust it.

“I’m here to cash in on a favour on behalf of the Hatford’s,” Nathaniel said, looking at this woman keenly.

Her smile got wider, showing several gold teeth.

“Now, now, my dear. That’s hardly the thing to say right out in the open, is it? You best come in. Would you like a slice of pie?” Ida Abbott asked, as she turned around and gestured for Nathaniel to follow her. 

Nathaniel followed, shutting the door closed behind him. He walked down a narrow hallway into an open kitchen, where a collection of daisies in a gold vase rested in the middle of a marble dining table.

“I’m fine,” Nathaniel said. He sat down at the kitchen table when she gestured for him to. The chair forced him into sitting uncomfortably straight. He looked around. The house sparkled in its cleanliness.

Ida didn’t appear to hear him. She puttered around the kitchen, putting a slice of pie and a glass of milk in front of Nathaniel. He didn’t touch it. Ida sat across from him with her own slice of pie and what appeared to be a cup of tea in front of her.

She didn’t touch hers either.

“Now, what did you say you needed, dearie?” Ida asked. Her tone of voice still kind, like a grandmother asking her grandchild what they needed to return to school. Nathaniel shivered.

“Identification,” Nathaniel said, “as soon as possible.”

Ida nodded. “Well that sounds absolutely reasonable to me, dear. Birth certificate, social security card, health card, passport?” she listed off, counting them down on her fingers

“Driver’s licence and school transcripts as well,” Nathaniel said.

Ida nodded. She got up again, leaving the room, going down a second narrow hallway beside the kitchen. Ida returned holding a sparkly notebook, decorated with pictures of kittens. The tip of a pen peaked out between the folds.

“Interview style?” Ida asked, sitting down again, opening her notebook

“That’s fine,” Nathaniel said, fidgeting slightly. Nathaniel watched this process take place many times with his mother, but he never answered the questions himself.

“Name,” Ida said, gel-pen poised in her wrinkly hand.

“Neil Josten,” Nathaniel, now Neil said. It was the name he decided on the walk over. Neil was a name he had been itching to use for a while, but knew his mother would never allow. Josten was the name Neil planned to use when they went to Germany again, but it never happened.

“Parents names,” Ida said.

“Liza and Fred Josten,” Neil said, making those names up on the spot.

“Occupations,” Ida said. Neil paused.

“Why do you need to know that?” he snapped at Ida. His parent’s occupations were hardly going to be on his birth certificate.

Ida gave him a slightly patronising smile. “I’m helping you work out your story, dear. Parents occupations?”

Neil blinked rapidly, trying to think of the stories told in the past.

“My mother is an accountant. My father is a real estate agent,” Neil said slowly, trying the lie out on his tongue. It sounded boring, average.

“Excellent, dearie. But say it a little stronger, won’t you? With conviction now,” Ida said, smiling. “Date of birth?”

Neil answered the rest of her questions, forging a new identity for himself. He was now Neil Josten, born on March 31st. He was sixteen, no longer fifteen. His parents were Liza and Fred Josten. They spent the majority of their life in Connecticut, deciding to make a spontaneous change when his father lost his job. He went to an average school, got average grades, and never really participated in any extracurricular activities.

“Is this what you want Neil to look like, dearie?” Ida asked, once they finished, giving Neil a once over. “If not we need to change you up before taking the pictures.”

Neil paused. His hair was currently a dark brown and his eyes matched in colour. It was true he hadn’t changed his appearance since before his mother died, which meant he should.

“Do you have anything?” Neil asked, not really expecting much.

Ida snorted, the least refined thing that Neil had seen her do.

“I’m over eighty years old, dearie. Do I have anything? What are you looking for?” Ida asked.

Neil thought about it. “Black hair dye,” Neil decided on, “hazel eyes,” he added, thinking of the boy from the park with his too-wide eyed hazel eyes.

Ida nodded and stood up with a surprising amount of agility for someone meant to be over eighty years old. She returned with a rather expensive box of hair-dye as well as a sufficient amount of contact lenses boxes, enough to last Neil a year, at least.

“Give me whatever ones you’re wearing now and we will trade,” Ida said, holding out her hand. 

Neil reached into his duffel bag and handed her the few remaining boxes of brown contact lenses he had left. He put the new boxes in his bag.

“Very good,” Ida said. “Washroom is down the closer adjacent hallway, last door on the right. Take your time, dear.”

Neil inched away from her, holding his duffle bag close, keeping as much distance between them as reasonably possible as he made his way to the bathroom. He locked the door after going inside. It wouldn’t be difficult to go from brown to black. Neil sat on the toilet with dye in his hair for half an hour before rinsing in the sink. Neil then removed his brown contact lenses in order to replace them with his hazel ones. When he looked into the mirror, Neil felt like a sufficiently new person. This was Neil Josten. Not Nathaniel, not his former aliases of Alex Williams.

“Hi,” Neil said into the mirror. “My name is Neil Josten. My parents are Liza and Fred Josten. My dad is a real estate agent, real great guy. My mom is an accountant. We moved here from Connecticut. Sports? Don’t really know much about them.”

It worked for now. Neil exited the washroom, duffel bag in hand. He met Ida in the kitchen again, and she gave him a once over.

“That’s much better, dearie. Now turn back around and go through the last door on the left,” Ida said, walking over to him.

Neil resisted the urge to sigh, turned around on his heel, and walked down the hallway again. After Ida took the pictures, she guided Neil back to the kitchen.

“Come back tomorrow at the same time, dearie. If you don’t already have your payment, I suggest you get it,” Ida said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Neil said. “I’ll show myself out.” Ida smiled her wide smile at him.

Before Neil scuttled away he paused, turning back around. “What day is it?” he asked.

“Friday,” Ida said, “got a date, dearie? Better hurry on.”

Date. Neil almost wanted to laugh. Neil knew better then to go on dates. He left the house, looking up at the sky. It looked to be sometime in the late afternoon. Neil’s stomach started to grumble, hungry after a long day of not eating. Last night it became accustomed to food, and wanted to encourage Neil to keep it coming.

Friday. Neil thought back to what Nicky said last night. Sweetie’s had a good deal on Friday nights. Neil didn’t exactly have anywhere else to be, and he needed to be in the area to come back to Ida’s tomorrow. Then he could decide where to go properly. His mother was dead, but Neil continued to survive.

Neil jogged back to where he was this morning, remembering the route. Dusk started to fall when Neil reached the park again. Neil walked from the park back to Sweetie’s. It definitely looked more packed than yesterday, so maybe Nicky wasn’t making up some deal in order to give him cheaper food. Neil entered the diner, this time not flinching away from the ding of the bell.

“Hello, and welcome to Sweetie’s! I’m Nicky and I’ll be your host…,” Nicky trailed off, looking Neil over.

Neil knew he shouldn’t meet someone again after swapping disguises. His mother would have been furious about it. Neil didn’t feel terribly concerned. He would be leaving soon, anyway, and Nicky hardly looked like a threat.

“Table for one,” Neil said, scuffing his shoe against the ground.

“You’re back,” Nicky said, delighted, not mentioning the hair change. Neil wasn’t expecting him to notice the eyes. Brown and hazel were close enough, and nobody ever paid close enough attention to a stranger’s eye to remember the colour unless they were deliberately looking.

Nicky paused, looking towards the back of the restaurant before turning to face Neil again.

“Hey, this might sound weird. But, my younger cousins are here and they look to be around your age. Do you want to sit with them?” Nicky asked, speaking fast.

Neil hesitated, wondering what would be the correct response. He soon realized it didn’t really matter, and nodded his head in acceptance.

“Sounds great,” Nicky said, his voice going higher in his cheer. “What’s your name, hon, so I can introduce you?”

Neil smiled slightly. “My name is Neil Josten,” he said.

“Alright, Neil. Just follow me,” Nicky guided him to the far end of the restaurant, once more to a comfortable looking booth.

Neil noticed the twins immediately. Frothy milkshakes were in front of both of them, but they did not appear to be talking to one another. Neil squirmed, wondering if it was really a good idea to encounter the boy from the park again. There was a higher chance of him noticing the eye change than Nicky, and along with the hair change it did make Neil seem a bit odd. Only, Neil could hardly turn back around and run away now. That would definitely seem stranger.

One of the twins looked up as Nicky got closer. Since both twins wore jackets, Neil couldn’t tell if this one was wearing the armbands from earlier.

“Aaron, Andrew. This is Neil. Neil, these are my twin cousins. Amazing, aren’t they?” Nicky said, smiling. “Here, why don’t you sit beside Aaron,” Nicky said, gesturing for Neil to sit beside the boy who looked up.

Aaron slid over to make room, not really looking at Neil as he did. Neil sat down beside him, making sure to leave a fair bit of room between their bodies. He still didn’t know if he encountered Aaron or Andrew at the park this morning.

“Alright,” Nicky cheered. “I’ll only be just a moment. You all play nice while I’m gone,” Nicky said, laughing.

Neither of the twins laughed, and Neil stayed uncomfortably silent. Nicky darted a look at all three of them before walking away. The silence continued after he left.

“Hello,” Neil said, finally breaking it, his voice quiet. “I’m Neil.”

Aaron looked at him blankly, but Andrew leaned forward, resting his head in the palm of his hand

“Hey, park-boy,” Andrew said. “Nice eyes.” Aaron gave him a weird look, twisting around to see if there was anything unusual about Neil’s eyes.

Neil swallowed uncomfortably, not expecting a direct attack like that.

“Thank you,” Neil said, “Yours are also nice,” Neil wondered if Andrew could tell he basically copied his eye colour. But that would be a shocking leap to make based on such little information.

“How do you know Nicky?” Andrew asked again. Neil wondered how old he was. He couldn’t be any older than eighteen, but his sharp voice demanded answers.

“I don’t,” Neil said. “I just happened to come here last night when Nicky was working.”

He spoke the truth, which was more than Neil could say about most things that came out of his mouth. Andrew hummed, surveying Neil with a blank expression on his face, giving off the impression he didn’t really care about the answers. Aaron continued to say nothing, looking out the window into the darkening sky, occasionally sipping on his milkshake.

“Nicky must think we will be more willing to accept a sob story like you over any of the children at school,” Andrew finally said.

“I’m not a sob story,” Neil snapped, glaring at Andrew. Andrew paused, blinking. He leaned back in his chair, a curious look on his face.

“Temper, temper. Not nearly as meek as you try to appear then, huh, Neil?” Andrew said. He said his name like he knew it was as fake as his hair and eyes. Neil twitched uncomfortably.

Nicky thankfully appeared before Neil could say anything else damning. He put another tall glass of water and over-filled bread basket in front of Neil.

“What the fuck?” Aaron said, speaking for the first time. “What’s with the bread?” Neil sunk down in the booth.

“That’s Neil’s complimentary bread basket,” Nicky said. “Don’t eat any of it, it’s for him,” he added, looking at Andrew.

Andrew put his hands up in mock surrender, “I was not even reaching.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nicky said. “Do you know what you want to order, hon?”

Neil hadn’t even had the chance to look at the menu, but didn’t want to admit that.

“Same as last night,” Neil said. Nicky nodded without asking him to clarify, so Neil assumed he remembered what that was.

“Sounds great. Either of you going to get some real food?” Nicky directed at the twins, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries,” Aaron said. “No ketchup, no onions, no tomatoes. Lettuce is okay,” he added as an afterthought. Neil stared at him.

“Andrew?” Nicky asked, voice hopeful.

“Ice-cream sundae,” Andrew answered. “Vanilla, caramel sauce, sprinkles, extra cherries.”

“Isn’t there already enough ice-cream in the milkshake?” Nicky tried to wheedle. “You don’t even want a soup? Or a plate of fries?”

Andrew said nothing, and Nicky sighed.

“As you wish,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.” Nicky left them in silence again.

Neil took a bun from the bread basket, spreading the butter on and watching it melt. He ate slower than he did last night, aware of Andrew’s eyes on him even if Aaron seemed to barely be paying attention.

“What school do you go to?” Neil asked, after taking a sip of water, once he realized neither twin would be speaking

“Why?” Andrew asked. “Will we find you there next?”

Neil shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, even though he hadn’t been planning to stay in Columbia that long.

“Do you two know each other somehow?” Aaron said, voice abrupt. “Why do I feel like I’m out of the loop?”

“Because you are,” Andrew said, voice a sharp barb. It was the first time Neil heard them speak to one another, and it did not sound friendly.

Before the conversation could escalate, Neil interrupted. “Andrew found me sleeping under a slide this morning, that’s all.”

Aaron frowned at him. “Why were you sleeping under a slide?” he asked.

“Because he is homeless, obviously. Why do you think Nicky feels sorry for him?” Andrew said, giving Aaron a look.

“Yes, well. One of us has free bread while the other two do not,” Neil said, taking another roll from the basket and biting into it, ignoring the butter.

Andrew paused. Neil wondered if he was amused since his face made it difficult to tell. Neil wondered if he felt anything at all, or if he was as hollow as Neil. They sat in silence as they waited for the food to come. Andrew received a towering sundae, while Aaron and Neil both received substantial portions of food.

Neil noticed when Aaron received his plate, he picked up the mustard container and put a generous amount over his fries. Neil had no idea if this was normal.

Aaron noticed him looking and scowled. “It’s good,” he said, suggesting to Neil that no, this was not normal. “Try it.”

Aaron handed Neil a fry covered in mustard. Not sure what else to do, Neil accepted and popped it in his mouth.

He paused.

It actually tasted good. Neil chewed and swallowed, before nodding. Aaron didn’t smile, but Neil could tell he was pleased anyway.

Andrew jabbed a spoon in his direction.

“Eat your own food before it gets cold,” he said, spooning another mouthful of ice-cream in his mouth.

Neil examined his sugary creation once more.

“Are you really not going to have any food of substance? Did you eat earlier today?” Neil asked. 

Neil didn’t know why he kept probing. It wasn’t in Neil’s nature to be inquisitive, he preferred to fly under the radar. Maybe it was because this was the first human contact he had in over three months, and he was searching for something to latch onto after his mother’s death.

“Does it matter?” Andrew asked, biting a cherry of its stem. 

Andrew then put the stem in his mouth, his jaw working, and stuck out his tongue. The tied cherry stem rested on the tip of it. Andrew let it fall out of his mouth onto the table. Neil looked at the cherry stem for several long seconds.

“Do you want my soup?” Neil offered after a brief moment of silence, not fully realizing what he said until after he said it.

Andrew froze. “I will not pay for it,” he said.

“That’s fine,” Neil said, pushing the soup bowl towards Andrew. It was filled to the brim, and some sloshed over the side. Aaron looked up from his own meal.

Andrew used the same spoon he ate his ice-cream with to eat the soup. He didn’t thank Neil, but that was alright because Neil hadn’t expected him to. They ate the rest of their food in silence, but it did not feel as tense as it did previously. When Nicky returned, he obviously noticed the empty soup bowl in front of Andrew instead of Neil, but thankfully didn't comment. However, he did flicker a brief, barely-there grateful smile at Neil. Nicky placed three separate bills on the table, along with three lollipops.

“I’ll be back soon; I’m almost done my shift. Hon, do you need a drive anywhere?” Nicky asked, directing the question at Neil.

Neil shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Aaron gave him a look of disbelief, but didn't tell Nicky that Andrew found him sleeping in the park this morning.

“Alright. Come back soon, I work Monday to Fridays,” Nicky said, smiling, “Aaron and Andrew normally eat here Friday nights, as well.”

Neil paid, leaving another five-dollar tip. He noticed the amount of money Andrew and Aaron placed down seemed disproportionate to the amount they ate, even if they both gave exceptionally large tips.

Neil picked up the red lollipop this time, and stood up.

“See you around,” Neil lied. Andrew gave him what looked to be a semi-sarcastic salute, and Aaron waved his hand halfheartedly.

Nicky smiled at him when Neil exited the diner. Neil ducked his head down, pretending not to notice.


	2. Creamsicle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew and Neil get to know one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for how late this is. Thank you so much for the amazing responses I received for the first chapter. Your reviews and kudos really help me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter just as much.
> 
> Some trigger warnings: Neil has two panic attacks in this chapter, and his mothers death is described rather graphically. If you have any concerns about the future of this story, or just want to talk, feel free to message me on my Tumblr: andrewminyard-josten.

Neil once more woke up facing the strange blond boy. Thankfully, Neil now knew the face belonged to Andrew. Neil sat up instead of scrambling back, popping his back and stretching his arms. He wiped the dirt off his face, built up from a night of sleeping on the ground. After that, Neil gave Andrew a careful look over. He looked the same as ever, a bored look on his face and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. For whatever reason, Andrew chose not to wear shoes or socks this morning. How his feet weren’t freezing, Neil didn’t know. His toes traced an unknown pattern in the sand. Neil could already see the dirt beginning to get caught under the slightly too-long nails. 

“That’s dangerous,” Neil blearily said, “you could step in glass.”

Neil considered reaching for his contact lenses, but decided to withhold for the moment. Andrew already knew what his real eyes looked like. As long as nobody else ever saw, including Neil, this was fine. 

Andrew wiggled his toes in response. Neil looked Andrew over once more, taking note of the all-black outfit. Neil couldn’t judge. Andrew’s clothes might be consistently black, but at least they were different clothes. Neil still wore the same outfit from last night. Neil also noticed the ever-present black armbands tucked beneath the sleeves of Andrew’s hoodie. The armbands made Neil curious, but he knew better than to pry. 

“What are you doing here? It’s Saturday so you can’t be heading to school,” Neil said. 

Andrew shrugged in response.

Neil scratched his head, feeling the dirt his scalp collected overnight. A harsh breeze came through the park, causing Neil to shiver. The days were beginning to get colder. Neil wouldn’t be able to sleep outside for much longer. Hopefully any snow would hold off until Neil figured out what to do. 

“Is everything alright?” Neil asked Andrew awkwardly, “you know, at home and stuff.”

Andrew did not appear to be injured, but Neil couldn’t figure out why he would choose to wander the streets on a brisk Autumn-turning-Winter morning, sans shoes and a proper jacket. 

“And stuff,” Andrew repeated mockingly. “Everything is fine.”

Andrew’s cigarette burned away, and he once more discarded bud in the pocket of his jeans.  


“Well, I have places to be today,” Neil said. 

Andrew stood up and Neil unconsciously copied him. Neil wondered if this would be when Andrew walked away. Andrew, however, stayed still. His entire body seemed tense, but he looked at Neil, waiting for him to do something. What, Neil didn't know.

Not fully sure what was going on, Neil bent down and opened his duffel bag. He took out his contact lenses and popped them into his eyes easily, used to having to practise putting them on in the dark. 

“I prefer blue,” Andrew said while Neil did this. It almost sounded like a compliment, but Andrew’s persistently blank voice made it difficult to tell. 

“Not your choice,” Neil told him, picking up his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 

Andrew tilted his head before nodding in solemn agreement. Not sure what to make of it, Neil quickly avoided eye-contact.

“I really do have somewhere to be,” Neil said. 

“We should hurry up then,” Andrew said. 

It took Neil an embarrassingly long moment to realize Andrew wanted to come with him. Neil knew he definitely shouldn’t bring Andrew along with him to Ida Abbott’s house. If Neil wanted to maintain even the slightest pretense of staying under the radar, he needed to stop doing suspicious things in front of Andrew. Despite knowing this, Neil couldn’t help but think about how much more enjoyable the walk would be with company. Even after several months of being alone, Neil still wasn’t accustomed to the feeling. 

Really, Neil thought, trying to justify it to himself, him and Ida completed all the recognizably suspicious business yesterday. Today Neil just needed to collect his documents and give Ida Abbott her payment; a cheque tightly sealed in a pristine white envelope hidden at the bottom of his duffel bag. Andrew wouldn’t even know what was going on. 

“It’s a long walk,” Neil said hesitantly. “Are you sure you want to do it without shoes?”

Andrew pulled a set of car keys out of his jean pocket. 

“Cars exist,” Andrew said. 

With nothing else to say, Neil followed Andrew out of the park, holding his duffel bag close. Once they broke the barrier of trees surrounding the park, Neil could see the sleek, expensive car that frightened him so much the other night. They walked up the street to the car, Andrew unlocking the driver side door. Neil watched Andrew reach across the car to unlock Neil's door, letting him in.

Neil smoothly slid into the passenger seat, a familiar feeling washing over him. His duffel bag automatically went at his feet. He couldn’t remember the last time he sat in such a comfortable car. Surely as a child, the cars his father and his men drove were just as expensive as this one. Perhaps what made this car so strange was how new it felt. When Neil’s mother bought cars, she got them used and paid for them in cash. In this car the leather seats still felt stiff, a comfortable weight pressing against Neil’s back. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, from Andrew's rather obvious nicotine addiction. When Andrew turned the ignition on a blast of heat hit Neil, reminding him just how cold it was outside. Neil curled into the heat, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell of smoke. 

A soft sigh escaped his mouth. Neil turned to look at Andrew, opening his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly when he noticed Andrew already looking back. Neil jerked away from the heater, straightening up quickly. 

“Where are we going?” Andrew asked sharply. 

Neil rattled off the directions. When he finished Andrew nodded, not asking for any clarification. He pulled away from the curb, and then going a great deal faster than Neil expected, zoomed down the street. 

Neil sat in silence, looking down at his duffel bag. After a moment of consideration, Neil reached down and unzipped the bag, rummaging through the contents. When he sat back up, he noticed Andrew looking over at him. Neil clutched a red lollipop in his hand, which he held out to Andrew.

“Here, you like sweet things, right? Payment for driving me,” Neil said awkwardly. 

Andrew stared at the lollipop in silence. 

“I don’t like anything,” Andrew said, but he still snatched the lollipop out of Neil’s hands. Neil watched him rip the wrapper off with his teeth and shove the lollipop into his mouth, pulling off with a loud popping sound. “Do you not like sweet things?” Andrew asked.

“Not really,” Neil said, shrugging. 

Andrew hummed in response, before he reached forward and turned the radio on. Louder than Neil preferred, but he said nothing about it. The silence felt more comfortable than awkward, so Neil happily slumped down in his seat, head lolling to the side. The smooth roll of the car felt familiar and Neil’s eyes closed sleepily. Without fully realizing it, Neil slipped into unconsciousness. 

“Neil,” Nathaniel heard in his sleep, not understanding where the voice came from. “Neil, wake up. We are here,” the voice continued. Why was the voice calling him Neil? 

“Neil,” the voice repeated sharply, sounding closer. Nathaniel jerked back, hitting his head against the window. His eyes opened hazily, catching sight of cold hazel. 

“Andrew,” Neil said, jerking up. Andrew quickly leaned away from him before they could bump heads. 

Neil caught sight of Ida Abbot’s house. It looked just as pearly white as yesterday, glowing in expensive perfection. Andrew looked at him, hands firmly at his sides. Neil wondered how long Andrew tried to wake him for, not even bothering trying to shaking him. 

The car continued to run, the warmth encouraging Neil to fall back asleep. Neil stretched, yawning lazily. The muscles in his back cracked, making a satisfying popping sound. Neil let out a sigh of relief, rubbing at his itchy eyes. He fell asleep in his contact lenses, which never boded well. Hopefully they didn’t look too red beneath the fake hazel. 

“Sorry,” Neil said, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Andrew said.

Neil sighed, looking at the house. Ida likely already noticed the expensive car in her driveway through her satin curtains. Neil wondered if Ida knew it was only him, or if they were alarming her by lingering without getting out. 

“Alright,” Neil said, opening the passenger door. He more or less tumbled out. “Let’s go.”

Andrew shut off the ignition and followed. Neil reached back into the car, pulling out his duffel bag. Neil didn’t shut the car door immediately, gripping onto it and giving his legs a few seconds to wake up. Only once Neil felt comfortable he could walk steady did he shut the door. 

Andrew waited for him at the hood of car, letting Neil walk in front of him to knock on the door. Before Neil even raised his fist, the door swung open ominously. Ida Abbott stood in the doorway, long hair pleated into a neat braid. Today she wore a vibrant blue dress, her oven mitts decorated in elves wrapping square presents. 

“Not inconspicuous at all, are you, dearie?” Ida asked, looking at Neil. “In, in, now. Hurry on,” Ida said, ushering them inside. 

“Is this your date, dearie?” Ida said, looking Andrew over, her dark eyes glittering with something. Neil wondered if it was perhaps amusement. “He’s very handsome, but a little short for my liking. Well,” Ida said, her eyes sweeping over Neil, “you don’t look like you’ll be getting much taller, either.”

"Thank you, Ida," Neil said dryly.

Ida hardly looked threatened by Andrew’s dark glare. She gave them a large smile, gesturing towards the kitchen. Neil sat down without prompting, and Andrew took the seat beside him. Ida continued to bustle around.

“Cookies?” Ida asked, placing a plate between them. “Milk, juice, tea?” 

Neil shook his head, but that didn’t even slow Ida down. She placed two large cups of milk in front of them, sprinkling a little cinnamon on top. Ida played the part of the perfect hostess and doting grandmother. Neil wondered who else lived here. If this role came naturally to Ida because she did have a family in her life who appreciated this sort of behaviour. 

Andrew reached forward to pick up a chocolate-chip cookie, breaking it up into pieces as he ate it. Crumbs flew everywhere, but Ida smiled indulgently. 

“I like this one,” Ida said, sounding delighted. Andrew didn’t respond, or even glance up.

“My papers, Ida?” Neil said, watching Andrew take a swing of milk. Cinnamon lingered on his mouth, already stained red by the lollipop. 

Neil didn’t honestly believe Ida would poison them. Still, watching Andrew eat freely, Neil hoped for Ida’s sake she hadn’t. 

“Of course, dearie. Wait just right here,” Ida said, turning around to bustle down her narrow, adjacent hallway. 

Once again, Ida moved incredibly fast for an elderly woman. Her dress swished around her ankles, and Neil watched in slight shock as a small furry object sped through them, batting at the moving fabric. Ida laughed, voice high in joy, gracefully stepping over the small thing. Stupefied, Neil stared at the strange thing as it bounded into the room and hopped onto the table. 

“What the fuck is that?” Neil said, recoiling. 

“A kitten,” Andrew said, brushing his hands free of crumbs, looking at the small creature.

The kitten, still so small, got up on its hind legs to look into Andrew’s glass of milk. A small pink tongue peeked out of its mouth, eagerly licking at the surface. Neil watched Andrew stare at the kitten drinking from his cup. The thing looked like a small ball of orange fluff with white paws. 

Small orange fluff looked up from the glass, big blue eyes making eye contact with Andrew. It moved closer, and then in a surprising high pitch, meowed. To Neil’s further surprise, Andrew meowed back. Albeit, sounding far more sarcastic than the kitten. 

“What are you doing?” Neil asked slowly, wondering if he was dreaming. Or if someone killed him in the park and this was Neil’s version of the afterlife. 

“Communicating,” Andrew said. “Wow, Neil, you really need to go back to school.” 

Neil scowled, not liking being made fun of someone who couldn’t even be bothered to change his facial expression while doing so. The kitten pawed at Andrew’s face, which Andrew allowed. He held his fingers out to the things mouth, letting it lick at the crumbs lingering from the cookie. 

“Like that one, do you, dearest?” Ida said, coming back into the room, a thick, nondescript brown envelope clutched in her hand. “Muppet gave birth twelve weeks ago. That one is the runt of the litter.” 

The runty kitten pawed at Andrew’s face, meowing pitifully. Andrew picked the thing up, holding it gently between his two hands. Neil could hear the thing begin to purr as Andrew held it close to his chest, face still carefully blank. 

Ida looked at Andrew, a curious look on her face. She sat down at the table, sliding the brown envelope towards Neil. Neil reached into his duffel bag, pulling out his own smaller white envelope which held a cheque for a quarter of a million dollars inside it. He slid the envelope towards Ida before picking up the one she gave him. Neil did not open it to check the contents, sliding it into his duffel bag as casually as he could. Similarly, Ida did not reach for the envelope Neil gave her to check the amount. Neil guessed they were both deciding to trust one another.  


Once that business was completed, Ida returned her attention to Andrew. Andrew still held the kitten to his chest, seemingly not paying attention to it, but Neil noticed how relaxed his hands seemed, careful not to press too hard on such a small creature. 

“Do you want him?” Ida asked. 

Andrew froze, and then placed the kitten back onto the kitchen table. The kitten grumbled, snorting at Andrew, not at all pleased at being removed from newly-found warm comfort. 

“I want nothing,” Andrew said in response. 

“Ah,” Ida said. “Pity, dearest,” she reached forward to take the kitten away.

Neil was faster. He snatched the kitten up, causing the tiny beast to hiss at him. It soon quieted when Neil ran a soothing palm down his back, holding him to his chest. 

“I’ll take him,” Neil said. “How much?” 

Ida raised an eyebrow. She scrutinized him with dark eyes, looking between him and Andrew with a bemused frown. 

“Free of charge, dearie. No one pays for kittens these days,” Ida said. 

Neil kept a protective hold on the kitten and his duffel bag when they existed the house. Ida smiled, telling them to visit soon, something Neil knew to be a false request. He wondered how obvious it was that Andrew had no idea what they were doing at her house. 

Neil entered the car once more. Slowly lowering his duffel bag into the car, tightening his hold on the kitten in case it tried to jump from his arms. When Neil slid into the car he placed the thing on his lap, watching it curl up into a tight, fluffy orange ball. Sleepy blue eyes drooped closed, and with a small sniffing sound the kitten slipped into sleep. 

“What do you want to name him?” Neil asked Andrew once they pulled out of the driveway and began to drive down the street. 

“He is not my cat,” Andrew said, readjusting the rear-view mirror. 

Neil looked at the kitten some more, trying to think of something Andrew would appreciate. 

“Creamsicle,” Neil finally decided on. “We should name him Creamsicle.” 

Andrew glanced at him. 

“Big name for such a tiny thing,” he said. 

“I’m sure he’ll grow into it,” Neil said firmly. He stroked the top of Creamsicle’s head, listening to the beast purr. Creamsicle huddled further into Neil’s warmth, seemingly content with his new place in life. 

Neil couldn’t help but notice that Andrew drove slower now than he had earlier. Andrew also wasn’t bothering to turn the radio on this time. The silence felt odd, and Neil couldn’t even think of sleeping this time. He felt wide awake. 

Neil watched Andrew drive, wondering what to say. 

Andrew spoke for him. 

“What was in the envelope?” Andrew asked. Of course, of all the things to say.

“I can’t tell you that,” Neil said automatically. 

He immediately wondered if it would have been better to have made something up. Neil could feel the angry presence of his mother looming above him. A heavy fist ready to come down on him because Neil was too stupid to keep his story straight. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil murmured, sinking down into the chair. Neil didn't know if he was apologizing to his mother or Andrew. Creamsicle mewed, seeming to sense his discomfort even while sleeping. 

Andrew looked away quickly, staring out at the road. 

“Everything about you is a lie. Will you not tell me something truthful, Neil?” Andrew asked. 

“You already know something truthful,” Neil said, gesturing towards his eyes.

A seemingly minuscule detail, but profoundly important to Neil. Nobody had seen Neil’s real eyes in five years. Not even his mother looked at him without his contact lenses in. 

“What about you? I don’t know anything real about you, either. Tell me something truthful, Andrew,” Neil said, parroting the words back at him. 

A flicker appeared in Andrew’s eyes. It wasn’t amusement. Interest, perhaps? Interest in what, Neil didn’t know. It disappeared so quickly, Neil doubted it even being to begin with. 

“My birth mother died in a car crash during the summer,” Andrew said. His voice gave no indication that this occurrence troubled him. 

Neil, however, froze. Of all the things to admit to, of course Andrew said that. 

“My mother also died in car three months ago,” Neil said softly. 

Mary Hatford hadn’t died in something as mundane as a car crash, but she did slowly bleed to death within their last stolen car. Once she finally passed away, her blood dried to the fake leather seats, Neil was unable to pull her out without the horrific sound of ripping skin. Desperate, Neil lit the entire car on fire with her body still inside it. After that Neil buried her bones in the sandy shores of an abandoned beach. 

Andrew didn’t look at him, but his jaw clenched. Neil wondered what he could possibly be thinking to cause such a reaction. 

After several beats of silence, Neil spoke again. 

“Tell me a kinder truth, Andrew,” Neil requested. 

“Something kind,” Andrew repeated. “There is no such thing as kindness, Neil. The world is cruel.” 

“It’s not the world that’s cruel,” Neil said, “it’s the people in it.” 

Andrew said nothing. 

Neil struggled to think of something kind, something that he could exchange with Andrew and get a little piece of kindness in return. In his childhood the only bright spot was exy. Ever since they ran Neil’s mother forbid him from mentioning the sport. Probably thinking that any connection to their past, even something as simple as Exy, would draw their father’s men to them like blood drew sharks in water. 

“My favourite sport is exy,” Neil said, forcing his tongue to move. The words taste like damnation and salvation. “I used to play as a child.” 

“Exy, huh? Boring,” Andrew said, scoffing. 

“Boring,” Neil repeated snappishly. “What the hell. Do you play lacrosse or something?”

“No, I play exy,” Andrew said, cutting off another car and flipping off the driver. 

Neil paused, his anger slipping away. Neil didn’t know how Andrew could make him feel so many things in such a short time span. Neil went from embarrassment, to anger, to bewilderment to fascination in less than a minute. 

“What position do you play?” Neil asked, unable to stop himself. 

Andrew didn’t respond.

“I played blackliner,” Neil prompted, hoping that would be enough to get an answer from Andrew. 

Andrew sighed.

“Goalie,” he said. 

Neil looked at Andrew’s small frame, trying to imagine him guarding the net. Strangely enough, the picture came as clearly to Neil as the traffic currently in front of him. Andrew already moved with a certain ferociousness. Neil could imagine that energy channeled into exy, Andrew darting across the net lightning quick to slam the ball half-way across the court. Likely straight into another player’s face, if Neil imagined the scenario honestly. 

“Is your team any good?” Neil asked, feeling something inside him buzzing. 

“They are when I am in goal,” Andrew said. Anyone else would sound annoyingly arrogant. Andrew’s nonchalant, emotionless voice just made him sound honest. 

Neil bit his lip. 

“I want to play exy again. I haven’t for a long time,” Neil admitted to the silence of the car. 

As a child, Neil only enjoyed exy. In the beginning, before they ran, he remembered exy making his mother happy too. She would smile, not a motherly one – but a proud, vindictive smile when Neil smashed another player to the ground, expertly stealing the ball from them.

Back then Neil wanted to continue running with the ball. He knew he was faster than anyone else on the court. He knew he could score on the goalie if given the opportunity. But he also remembered getting shouted at the first time he did that, so Neil started to reluctantly pass to the actual strikers, no matter how much he disliked doing so. When Neil came off the field, sweaty, his mother would hand him a water bottle and say ‘well done, Abram.’

Neil imagined playing against Andrew. If he would score against the other boy. Then Neil’s thoughts turned, and instead he wondered what it would be like to play on the same team as Andrew. To guard Andrew as Andrew guarded the net. How it would feel to run up the field, laughing, scoring on the opposing team. 

“Then start playing again,” Andrew said, like it was that easy. His voice brought Neil out of his daydream and back into the present. 

Andrew looked at him, instead of at the road. Neil wondered what his face revealed. 

“I can’t,” Neil said, sounding pitiful even to himself. 

“Why not? Who is stopping you?” Andrew said. 

Neil could hardly tell him a ghost was. From what Neil already knew about Andrew, he had a feeling such pathetic sentiments would be found wanting. Still, Neil could hardly ignore every promise he made to his mother just because she was no longer alive to make sure he kept them. Not after she gave up everything, including her life, to protect him. He could still feel her fingers clutching at his hair, sharp nails that could rip out a man’s throat digging into his skull, screaming at Neil that he was going to get them killed. 

Neil knew he shouldn’t be here. In this car, in this city. He already overstayed his welcome in Columbia, and Neil knew better than to stay in any one place too long. 

A deep shuddering breath escaped him. Neil tried to inhale, but found it impossible. Breathing suddenly became difficult, and desperate wheezing noises escaped his throat without Neil realizing. Neil’s eyes watered as he struggled against the invisible force pressing against his throat, not understanding what was happening to him. 

A hand pressed against the back of his neck, forcing his head down. Neil’s eyes opened, a tear sliding down his cheek. A soft paw reached up, pressing against said cheek. 

“Breathe, Neil,” Andrew commanded. 

Neil should have found that restricting, but instead his body relaxed. Creamsicle licked the tears from his cheeks before settling back down, cuddling into Neil’s hoodie. Neil breathed in slowly, finding his throat and chest opening up again. 

“I’m fine,” Neil said, throat sore. 

“That was not fine,” Andrew said. “That was a panic attack.” 

Neil realized Andrew had pulled the car over. After staring at Neil for an undefinable amount of time, Andrew slowly swerved back into traffic. Neither of them said anything for a long while. He couldn’t even begin to explain what happened. 

“Exy isn’t good for your lungs,” Andrew said, “if it causes that reaction.” 

Neil paused, thinking about the absurdity of that statement. Andrew looked completely blank as he said it, no hint of amusement in his voice. Neil started to shake and he wondered if he was about to stop breathing again. Then, more shockingly, a high pitched giggle escaped his mouth. Neil slapped a hand over his mouth in shock, jostling Creamsicle slightly. The giggles desisted, but by the way Andrew’s eyes swung over, he obviously heard the sound. 

The car swerved and Andrew swore, flipping off another driver. Neil hoped he wasn’t smiling, not wanting to inflict such a ghastly expression on Andrew. 

“Smoking isn’t good for your lungs, either, you know,” Neil said, a jittery feeling inside him. Neil's heart continued to flutter, but not nearly as drastically as before. 

Andrew shook his head. 

“You are so strange,” Andrew said, voice almost quiet. 

“You’re stranger,” Neil said, leaning back. Creamsicle leaned back with him, opening a beady eye to stare at them, looking confused by all the commotion, before closing it once more.

Andrew turned on the radio. Quiet enough not to disturb Creamsicle anymore than they already had, but loud enough to halt any further conversation. Neil wasn’t offended. He didn’t bother to watch the road, used to the sight after so many years. Instead Neil watched Andrew. If Andrew noticed him watching, he said nothing about it. 

Only when they pulled in front of the familiar park did Neil decide to speak again. Neil cradled Creamsicle in his arms, looking at Andrew with a serious face. 

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t want Creamsicle, but will you watch him for me? At least until I find somewhere that isn’t outside to sleep,” Neil said. He held Creamsicle out earnestly. 

Andrew stared at the small bundle of fluff. Neil waited for him to answer. He didn’t push Creamsicle any closer to Andrew, or give him any sort of pleading look. Neil waited calmly, willing to accept whatever Andrew said without complaint. 

“Yes,” Andrew said, looking at Neil’s face intently.

“Yes?” Neil repeated back him, shocked and pleased at the same time.

“I expect you to be here tomorrow,” Andrew said, voice sharp. 

“I…” Neil trailed off. He hadn’t really planned on abandoning the kitten with Andrew and taking off. At least, that is what Neil told himself.

Andrew glared at him. “Promise me,” Andrew said, “you will still be here tomorrow. Promise me, and I will look after your stupid cat.”

“I promise,” Neil said softly. He maintained eye contact with Andrew while doing so. The hazel in Andrew’s eyes falsely reflected back at him through Neil’s contact lenses. 

He placed Creamsicle in Andrew’s lap. Creamsicle did not seem to mind the change in person, curling up into a tight ball while purring contently. Neil stared at this image longer than necessary, memorizing every tiny detail so it would be in his brain forever.  


Once the car, with Andrew and Creamsicle in it, was out of sight, Neil began to run in the opposite direction. Neil did not bother to pace himself, instead he pushed himself to go as fast as possible. He ran out of breath quicker this way, but even when Neil reached that point he kept going. Only when Neil felt close to genuinely collapsing did he stop. He sat down, panting, head between his legs.  


Neil debated whether he should go back. Technically he did not know the way, but he had several long hours to figure it out. Did Neil want to go back? Everything about Andrew felt far too real. Nothing in the five years Neil had been on the run felt real. His mother never referred to him by his real name once they ran away from his father. Neil quickly learned to avoid saying the name “Mary” as well, even in reference to an entirely different person than his mother. 

Andrew already knew the real colour of his eyes. Andrew wanted to figure him out. Becoming real after so long being a fake was a scary thought. Real meant danger.

The idea of being real also felt exhilarating. Neil could feel his heart pounding, and he didn’t think it was all fear. Some locked up part of Neil, kept hidden for years, wanted Andrew to know him, and he wanted to know Andrew in return.

Finally, Neil got up off the ground. He had been crouching in the bushes a little away from the road, so no potential passing cars would notice him. Neil stumbled when he first started walking, his legs having fallen asleep. After a few unsteady steps, Neil broke into a slow jog. He no longer desperately ran away from the park, but instead began to slowly move towards it.

Staying for now did not mean staying in the future. But in this moment, Neil thought, it would be nice to kill the Nathaniel in his head. The Alex, the Stefan, the Chris. It would be nice to make Neil Josten real. Nathaniel, Alex, Stefan and Chris all shared one thing in common – someone who knew them. Andrew couldn’t know any of these people, but maybe he could come to know Neil Josten. Mary would never know Neil Josten, but that did not mean nobody could. 

Neil walked back to the park, dusk falling as he returned to his slide. In the harsh sand Neil curled up against his duffel bag, holding it close. He remembered the softness of Creamsicle’s fur from earlier. A part of him hoped Andrew cuddled the soft kitten to sleep. Neil could picture it in his head, both of them bathed in silver moonlight. It gleamed off their shared pillow, Andrew’s golden hair mixing with Creamsicle’s orange fur. In a painting the two colours would melt together, forming a beautiful bronze colour. The colour of the sun as it rose in the sky, the taste of a new beginning. 

That night, instead of bloody nightmares, Neil dreamt of dawn. 

Once more, Neil woke up to Andrew crouching in front of him. Neil didn’t even feel surprised anymore. He stretched, yawning. Neil sat up, feeling his back pop. Sleeping on the ground really wasn’t doing his spine any favours. Neil wiped his hands free of sand before reaching into his duffel bag, grabbing his contact lenses and popping them into his eyes. When the left eye began to water, Neil shut it tightly hoping it wouldn’t dislodge. Neil really hated wasting contact lenses.  


When his eyes opened once more, hazel met hazel. 

“Are we always going to meet this way?” Neil asked. 

“Depends,” Andrew said, “when are you going to stop sleeping under the slide?” 

Neil scowled. 

“When I find somewhere to live,” Neil said sharply. “I’m not exactly enjoying this, you know.” 

Truthfully, Neil would need to find somewhere to live sooner than later. He already decided he would be staying in Columbia, so Neil needed to start getting his shit together. Before someone began to ask uncomfortable questions. Questions that would not be easy to answer. His mother always found somewhere cheap to live, never a real home, with a landlord she could pay under the table who would ask no questions. They couldn’t afford a money trail. Neil doubted his ability to do the same. Even the sketchiest places would be hesitant to rent out to an obviously underage grimy runaway. 

“Is it that difficult?” Andrew asked, lighting up a cigarette.

Neil twitched. 

“It is when you aren’t exactly eager to be carted off to foster care,” Neil snapped. 

Andrew froze. It was unlike his normal stillness and alarmed Neil immensely. Before Neil could panic through a response, Andrew stood up. Neil looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering what caused such a strange reaction from the usually stoic boy. He wondered if Andrew was going to leave without him. 

“Let’s go,” Andrew said, turning around. Neil released a quick breath, scrambled to his feet, grabbed onto his duffel bag and hurried after Andrew.

“Andrew-,” Neil started, but Andrew did not give him a chance to continue, interrupting him smoothly. 

“Where do you want to go?” Andrew asked, looking back at him, blowing smoke into his face. 

Neil thought about it. There wasn’t anywhere in particular he needed to go today. 

“Driver’s choice,” Neil eventually said. 

Andrew didn’t push him to make a real choice. He nodded in acceptance, putting his cigarette out on the palm of his hand, shoving the bud into his pocket. They entered the car in silence, but once Andrew started driving, the questions came. 

“Do you know how to drive?” Andrew asked, taking a corner sharply.

“Yes, of course,” Neil said. His mother taught him when he was fifteen and they were in Germany. 

“How old are you?” Andrew asked, slanting a glance towards him. 

“Sixteen,” Neil lied. “How old are you?” 

“Sixteen,” Andrew said, “my birthday was in November.” 

“Happy belated,” Neil said automatically. “Mine was in March,” he added, a little awkwardly. 

“That makes you older than me,” Andrew said sharply. He looked at Neil coolly. “I don’t believe you.” 

Neil shrugged away the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Andrew noticed too much. 

“That’s your own prerogative,” Neil said. “How’s my kitten?” 

Andrew must have noticed the subject change, but said nothing about it. 

“Fine,” Andrew said. “Nicky loves him. Practically bought the entire cat section of Pet Value.” 

“You live with your cousin?” Neil asked. 

Andrew paused. 

“Yes. Nicky has custody of Aaron and I,” Andrew said. He turned the radio on after that, and Neil let the conversation die out. 

Neil knew Andrew’s mother died in the summer, but he guessed this meant the father wasn’t in the picture either. Not really sure what to do with this information yet, Neil tucked it into the back of his mind. Slowly, as Andrew began to piece together the puzzle that was Neil Josten, Neil was putting Andrew together in return. 

After several hours of driving, Andrew began to slow down. It neared noon now and Neil’s stomach grumbled uncomfortably. He skipped eating yesterday, not feeling up to scrounging for food. Andrew pulled into a long narrow road surrounded by trees and high rocks, maintaining this slower speed. When they broke free of the trees, a wide expanse of beach was revealed. In front of the beach was a small parking lot devoid of any other cars. Andrew took a middle parking space, turning the ignition off. 

Neil stared at the beach. The water looked to be an icy blue, covered in a small sheen of winter mist. When Andrew opened the car door a burst of cold wind came through. It felt chillier outside since they were now near water. Even after Andrew closed the driver door, Neil didn’t move. He remembered being on a beach several months earlier, in a car much cheaper than the one he currently sat in. Unable to remove his mother from the vehicle, her dried blood sticking her skin to the fake leather seat, making a disgusting rubbery sound when Neil tried to pull her away. The smell of smoked meat when he lit the entire car on fire with her inside of it. Everything Neil tried to avoid remembering when he recalled his mother’s death. 

Neil didn’t realize he had stopped breathing until the passenger door went flying open. A hand pressed against the back of his neck, forcing his head down.

“Breathe,” a low voice commanded. Neil obeyed, greedily sucking in a deep breath.

Neil opened his eyes, not realizing he had shut them. The images behind his eyes slowly receded, revealing Andrew crouched on the ground outside the car. His eyes betrayed nothing. Once Andrew realized Neil was breathing again, he stood up and stepped away.

“Do you want to leave?” Andrew asked. Neil looked at him, thinking this was the second time within the span of two days Andrew stopped him from panicking. 

Neil hesitated answering immediately. He didn’t know why Andrew brought him here. Perhaps this beach held some significance to Andrew, one Neil was yet to be aware of. He wanted to be aware of it. Neil wanted to know why Andrew brought him to this far-away beach, so closed off from the rest of civilization.

Neil shook his head and stepped out of the car. This put him close against Andrew, practically leaning against his frame. Andrew stood steady, letting Neil borrow his weight as he closed the passenger door.  


“I need a real answer, Neil,” Andrew said.

“I want to stay,” Neil breathed. 

They walked towards the beach, Andrew not asking about the second panic attack Neil had in his car. The chill helped Neil feel better. It reminded him it was winter, not summer, and that despite it all Neil was still alive. Neil breathed in the salt of the water, stepping closer until his feet rested right in front of the shoreline.

“Why this place?” Neil asked, looking out into the water.

“When I was a child I ran away from one of my foster homes. It was the middle of winter. I found a secluded beach. If it was more populated in the summer, I am unaware. It took social services three days to find me. They didn’t send me back to that home,” Andrew said, sounding satisfied.

The amount of truth startled Neil. 

It was the longest sentence Neil heard Andrew speak. He thought about it carefully, trying to unpack what Andrew said. Andrew revealed a lot, so much Neil hadn’t known previously. Foster home stood out the most, since Neil already knew Andrew currently lived with his cousin and twin brother. Did Andrew not grow up with them? That was a wound Neil chose not to pick at. Not yet, at least. It certainly explained the strange reaction Andrew had earlier when Neil brought up foster care. Neil reminded himself to be more careful in the future.

“How old were you?” Neil decided to ask instead.

“Seven,” Andrew said, sneering slightly.

Andrew reached into his pocket, taking out his package of cigarettes. Andrew took out two, sticking them both into his mouth and lighting them up. He handed one to Neil, which Neil accepted gratefully, holding its warmth in the comfort of his hands. 

“My mother died on a beach,” Neil said, speaking truthfully. He wondered how much to reveal. “The car was in the flames and she was still inside,” Neil spoke around the story, not wanting to tell Andrew he had been the one to set the car on fire. 

“Tragic,” Andrew said. His voice blank, not sarcastic. Somehow that comforted Neil.

“Aren’t we?” Neil said.  


When his cigarette burned to the filter, Neil handed it to Andrew to dispose of in his pocket, instead of discarding it in the sand or throwing it in the lake.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Neil said.

Andrew slanted a look towards him. 

“You revealed a piece of your life to me yesterday. I am only returning the favour,” Andrew said.

Neil wanted to smile. He would have, if he wasn’t aware of how hideous his smile was.

When Andrew sat down in the sand. Neil followed him. They laid down on their backs, staring up at the sky, listening to the waves coming up at their feet.

“What does that cloud look like to you?” Neil said, pointing up to some random blur of white in the sky.

Andrew didn’t answer for a long moment. Then he did.

“A car,” he said, playing along.

“Oh?” Neil said, “I see an exy racquet.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fuck off,” Andrew growled. Neil’s chest shook with silent laughter. He looked over at Andrew, only to find Andrew already looking back.

“I’m funny,” Neil said.

“You’re an idiot jock,” Andrew responded. 

They laid there, looking up at the clouds, occasionally pointing one out and making continuously outlandish statements about what it looked like. Hours passed without Neil realizing it. Eventually the sun started to set, shocking Neil back into awareness. Andrew and Neil pushed themselves into sitting positions, looking up at the sky. They watched as shades of red, orange and purple bloomed over the lake, gleaming across the water. Neil turned to look at Andrew, only for a moment, to catch a glimpse of the colours reflecting off his cheekbones. They continued watching the sun until it fell beneath the water of lake, out of sight.  


Neil once more looked at Andrew, his face seemingly sharper in the silver of the moonlight. Before Neil had a chance to speak, to say what he didn’t know, his stomach rumbled. 

Andrew looked over at him. 

“Dinner,” he said, and that was that.

Somehow, they ended up at Denny’s. A chain restaurant Neil remembered seeing in multiple cities across America, but never actually went into. Andrew pulled into the parking lot, jumping out of the car almost eagerly.

Neil watched him move.

“Do you like this place?” Neil called after him. He moved quicker to walk in step with Andrew.

Andrew didn’t answer, not even to refute and say he liked nothing. They walked inside, waiting for their young hostess to seat them.

Andrew didn’t even glance at the menu, but Neil picked his up to look through. Most of the options seemed to be breakfast orientated, which Neil hardly minded. Breakfast sounded rather nice. 

Their waiter came by several minutes later, asking if they wanted anything to drink. He was a young man with a slightly pimpled face and too large brown eyes that look to be an in-between of too tired and wide awake. That, and his borderline frantic writing, made for an alarming picture.

“Strawberry milkshake,” Andrew answered automatically.

“Strawberry milkshake, got it,” the waiter said, speaking fast and writing quickly. Neil believed he introduced himself as Jason, but couldn’t fully recall. “What about you?” he asked, looking at Neil, pen twitching in his hand.

“Coffee,” Neil said, “and a glass of water.”

“Coming right up,” Jason reassured them, before scuttling away. Neil glanced around the restaurant. There did seem to be a fair number of people seated, and Neil could see several more waiting at the hostess’ booth. 

Neil stared at Andrew sitting across from him, slumped in the booth, looking at Neil with hooded eyes. He thought of Creamsicle in Andrew’s home, being petted and cooed over by Andrew’s cousin. A mirror version of Andrew looking on in bemusement. Everything felt so, so incredibly real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, that was the second chapter. I apologize for the lack of Nicky and Aaron. I promise they make a return next chapter.
> 
> Please leave a review telling me what you liked, or what you look forward to. I also really appreciate anyone who leaves kudos! Thanks everyone xoxo.


	3. Vanilla

Neil did not expect to wake up to a downpour of hail. The shards of ice came down fast, their edges wickedly slicing against the air. They were like tiny knives, attacking him from the sky. Neil hated knives. Immediately knocked out of sleep, Neil cowered beneath his duffle bag. He opened his eyes, only to be blinded by strong winds and water. He attempted to use his duffle bag as a make-shift shield against the wind and water, along with the sharp pieces of ice, their edges cutting across his face, creating deep jagged cuts. Blood drip down his cheeks. Logically, Neil knew the rain was washing away the blood before it reached his mouth. Nevertheless, he still felt like he could taste the metallic tang of iron. 

Wind blew from all directions, raising the sand off the ground and blowing it directly towards Neil’s face. He closed his eyes against the onslaught, feeling them sting more than they had with just the train. Not that his vision seemed useful at this point anyway. Even without the rain and sand it still looked dark out – it could still be the middle of the night for all Neil knew. 

“Fuck,” Neil swore aloud. Another mistake, he thought, as sand blew into the back of his throat. He coughed viciously, feeling like he had just swallowed a thousand pebbles. 

Neil could hear his mother, her dead voice in the back of his head, berating him for all the stupid choices he kept making. Neil was so obviously useless without her, it made him even more miserable. Sometimes he wondered if he should have been the one to die instead, so she could of kept going without him burdening her. 

“I’m trying, mum,” Neil whispered to himself. His English accent slipped out a bit, but with no one other than Neil to hear, it was fine. 

Everything was fine. Except, of course, for the weather which was currently doing its best attempt at murdering Neil in a stupid children’s playground. 

Hail was hardly the typical weather for South Carolina, even in December. Neil counted on the naturally warm climate to allow him some leeway when it came to shelter. Of course, Neil had little luck. Which meant his hesitance at settling down and finding a place to live resulted in Neil’s current horrific situation. He shivered. Despite wearing two sweaters to sleep in – a long sleeved and a hoodie, Neil still felt cold. He also hesitated at buying a new jacket. He regretfully tossed his old one out when it became so bloody and torn it began attracting stares instead of detracting them. 

Neil tried to think of a solution, but knew that his only option was to wait it out. Being under the slide offered some protection from the elements. In the distance Neil heard thunder. He felt his fingers beginning to freeze, and knew they were also bleeding and torn raw. Even when the hail began to die down, the rain started pouring even harder. If it was day time, Neil would use this as an opportunity to run towards a public library. However, in the dead of night night, Neil didn’t want to chance trying to navigate in the dark.

Due to the heavy rain, Neil didn’t hear the foot steps until a heavy boot kicked against the slide. Neil flinched backwards, clutching his duffle bag tighter. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a soaked Andrew staring down at him. 

Andrew stood sans umbrella, or even proper winter clothes. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin. If it wasn’t for his pale, glowing face, amber eyes and blond hair that stuck up around his head like a halo, Andrew would have blended in perfectly with the dark behind him. Neil stared at the bright, golden colours. Andrew looked like the sun, coming out when it wasn’t supposed to yet, scaring away the storm. 

“Get up,” Andrew said, voice raspy. 

Neil scrambled to his feet, pushing himself up from the wet ground. The sand was very quickly turning into dirt. Or mud. Neil's eyes watered, but he kept them open and looked towards Andrew. Or at least in his general direction. Eye contact wasn’t exactly easy in this moment of time. 

“What do you want?” Neil asked. He hadn’t seen Andrew in several weeks, despite his own promise to stay. Andrew should be grateful he was still under this slide and had nowhere else to go. Not that Neil had anywhere else to go. Or that he had been waiting for Andrew. Still. 

“Do you want to get out of this storm or not?” Andrew asked, voice bored. 

Neil considered his options. He could follow Andrew, or he could stay where he was. Neither options sounded particularly wise. Although, his mother would have been furious at Neil for even contemplating the second. Trust no one, Abram. 

Still, a part of him itched to follow Andrew. Neil desperately wanted to know where Andrew had been the past few weeks, and what the hell motivated him to come back. It wasn’t that Neil missed Andrew specifically, but he admittedly accustomed himself to the human company. Life got startlingly lonely after Andrew stopped appearing in the morning to badger Neil.

“I’ll come,” Neil said, “as long as you tell me where I’m coming to.”

“My house. Now hurry up,” Andrew said, already beginning to walk. Neil hurried after him, catching up quickly. They were approximately the same height, but Neil was also used to hurrying after his mother in direr circumstances. 

Relief washed over Neil when he noticed Andrew’s car. Sleek and strong even in the storm, it stood like a warrior against an enemy it knew it would defeat. Neil sprinted close, grateful to find the passenger door unlocked when Neil’s clammy hand desperately clawed at the handle. Neil ducked in, immediately shutting the door behind him. He curled into a ball on the seat, dripping water onto the leathery material.

Andrew slid in a few seconds later, looking equally dishevelled. The engine roared to life a moment later, and they sped along the dark road. Andrew turned on the heat without being prompted, but left the radio off. Neil wondered if that counted as an invitation to speak.

Neil decided to count it as one. He had a lot of questions to ask, and he wanted Andrew’s answers. 

“Why did you come get me?” Neil started off with.

Andrew gave him a blank look.

“If you have not noticed,” Andrew said flatly, “it is fucking storming and you are homeless.” 

Neil bit his tongue, attempting to hold back an equally flat retort. It worked for only a second, until Neil’s temper, something he unfortunately inherited from his father, took hold in him. 

“If you have not noticed,” Neil repeated mockingly, “it’s been weeks since I’ve fucking seen you.” 

Andrew turned sharply. 

“And?” he asked. 

“And,” Neil repeated, his voice going higher in pitch. “What the fuck, Andrew! Where the hell have you been?” 

“I had exams to complete,” Andrew said. “If you were in school you would know that. You would also know that it is almost Christmas.” 

“I don’t give a shit about Christmas,” Neil said. He noticed his voice had risen so high it sounded like he was screaming.

Neil bit his tongue so hard he could feel the blood well up, dripping out the side of his mouth. He blinked rapidly, trying to get the dirt and dust out of his eyes. He knew it was there, he could feel it scratching against his retinas, causing them to feel sore and irritated. Neil reached up a hand, brushing his eyes and ducking his head down. He was a fucking mess. A literal bloody disaster. 

Silence remained, lingering awkwardly in the cold winter air of the car. The warmth Neil felt upon entering disappeared, vanishing into thin air. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil mumbled, rubbing his eyes harder. 

Andrew said nothing for so long, Neil stopped expecting a response. Honestly, he half expected Andrew to pull over and kick him out of the car.

“I won’t make you wait again,” Andrew said. He sounded so sure of himself, so matter of fact, that Neil couldn't help but believe him. He still didn't fully understand why Andrew had disappeared, but he needed to believe that it would never happen again. 

They said nothing else until they pulled up to a modestly sized home. Rain and hail both cackled against the window of the car. Even after Andrew turned off the engine, Neil watched it hit and hit and hit. The storm seemed to be worsening again. 

“Neil,” Andrew said, his voice sounding surprisingly soft despite its coolness. It washed over Neil, making his stiffened muscles relax. 

“I’m going to stay from now on. I promise,” Andrew said. He held eye contact with Neil, his hazel eyes flat, but honest. 

Neil remembered promising Andrew to stay in exchange for looking after Creamsicle. Now Andrew was promising to stay as well.

“What do you want in exchange?” Neil asked.

Andrew looked at him, and if Neil was reading him correctly that was surprise on his face.

“Equal exchange, right?” Neil said. 

“Enrol in school,” Andrew said. His voice as blank as ever, Neil couldn’t tell if Andrew spontaneously come up with this offer or if he had been thinking about it for awhile. 

“Alright,” Neil answered, complacent. He had been putting off returning to school for too long, so it was probably a good thing Andrew now requested it of him. “What school do you go to?”

Andrew froze, reaching for the handle of the door.

“We will talk about it more inside. I’m fucking freezing,” Andrew said, and forcibly opened the car door. 

Neil followed his lead, hurrying to the front of the house. He wondered when the rain would stop. Right now, it felt like it could go on forever. Andrew unlocked the door, pushing it open. Neil was immediately hit with a burst of warmth and light. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to such a significant change.

“Oh my God, Andrew,” a familiar voice said. 

Neil squinted, catching sight of Nicky. Nicky stood in his pyjamas, a matching long-sleeved shirt and pants decorated with colourful pieces of sushi, in the middle of the living room. Nicky clutched a cellphone in one hand and had a frantic look on his face. Behind him stood a replica of Andrew, also in pyjamas, although his were a muted grey colour. Aaron, Neil remembered. Aaron looked more pissed off than concerned. 

“Andrew, what were you thinking taking off in the middle of the night with the car? And in a storm, no less,” Nicky ranted, seemingly not having noticed Neil standing behind Andrew. “What if you crashed? You’ve already been in one car crash too many, you should fucking know better! I was so fucking worried. I thought about calling 911, but then I didn’t, so I called Erik instead and thank God I already have international calling because could you imagine the phone bill if I didn’t and Jesus Christ who is that,” Nicky trailed off, sounding out of breath, having finally caught sight of Neil. 

Neil stared at him blankly, unsure if he was meant to answer or not. 

“It’s the kid you kept trying to feed bread to like he was a pigeon off the streets. Which I guess he technically is,” Aaron said, sounding tired and pissed off. 

“The car is mine I can do what I want with it,” Andrew piped in, his voice as cold as the air outside. 

Nicky squeezed his cellphone hard, not seeming to know what to address first. Aaron’s rude behaviour, or Andrew’s callous dismissal of his worry. Neil took in his tired, slightly wet eyes and stepped forward. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil said, making eye contact with Nicky. The second time he said the words tonight. 

Both his parents hated the word sorry. Neil rarely heard it spoken as a child. 

Nicky released a deep, shuddering breath. Neil desperately hoped Nicky wasn’t about to cry. He would rather Andrew left him alone under the slide to die than to watch his cousin weep in front of them because of their actions. 

“No, no. Don’t apologize, hun. Andrew wouldn’t have gotten you unless it was important. I’m sorry for snapping, Andrew. I know the car is yours, you just scared the fucking shit out of me. Are you both alright?” Nicky asked, his voice gentle. 

Neil opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but was interrupted by Aaron. 

“I’m going back to bed,” Aaron said, scowling. He turned around and walked up the stairs, his foot steps heavy in the otherwise silent house.

“Neil needs to shower and I need to change,” Andrew said, once more interrupting Neil before he could speak. Neil glared at the floor. 

“Right, right,” Nicky said, muttering to himself. “Are you hungry, Neil? I can make breakfast.” 

Neil blinked. He was pretty sure it was still the middle of the night. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but the sky outside and Aaron’s response made it clear this was not the time to be awake.

“No, that’s fine. Don’t you want to go back to bed?” Neil asked Nicky slowly.

Nicky rapidly shook his head. “No way, hozay. My body is up and ready to begin the day, no more sleep for me,” he said.

Neil wondered if he should feel guilty. It seemed evident Nicky still felt far too frazzled to go back to sleep. He wondered if speaking to this ‘Erik’ person had helped at all. 

“Let’s go,” Andrew said sharply, “you’re dripping on the floor.” He reached out to tap Neil on the arm, pushing him slightly forward so he would begin walking. 

Neil looked down at the small puddle he had created on the hardwood flooring. There was a similar puddle beside Andrew, so Neil didn’t feel like the excess of water inside the house was entirely his fault. 

“Oh, right,” Neil said, and followed Andrew up the stairs. He smiled at Nicky when he passed him, to demonstrate that he wasn’t entirely ungrateful. Nicky smiled back, and Neil was impressed at just how easily he hid his exhaustion behind the smile. 

“It’s okay,” Nicky called up after them, “I’ll clean it up!” 

Neil wondered if he should say something, but Andrew shook his head at him.

“Nicky needs something to do,” Andrew explained once they made it to the top of the stairs. “Otherwise he’ll overthink and turn himself in a stress ball before self-combusting.” 

Neil nodded, thinking he understood. There were four rooms upstairs. One was assumedly a bathroom. The other three must be bedrooms. Andrew led him to the door directly across from the stairs, and gestured for Neil to go inside as he flickered on the lights. 

The bathroom was small, but nice. The toilet under the window sill split the room in two. On the left side was a combined shower and bathtub. A blue mat was on the ground, covered in little yellow ducks. Neil went to stand on it, so it would more easily soak up the water his clothes continuously dripped onto the ground. On the left side was a sink, several cupboards and cabinets, along with a large mirror. Neil looked at his reflection. Drenched in water, covered in cuts and bruises. His eyes, though, in their natural blue state caught his attention. 

Neil's blue eyes always reminded him of his father. Yet, somehow, right now they didn't. In fact, Neil couldn't remember his eyes ever looking so unlike his father's than right now. There was something about the way they glittered, the emotions behind him as he looked between his own reflection and Andrew staring at him. Even with his blue eyes on display, Neil still felt like his own person. 

Andrew opened the cupboard beneath the sink, and pulled out several towels. He dropped them onto the toilet lid. 

“You need to shower,” Andrew said, “use the warm water. My bedroom is the last door down the hall on the left.” 

He turned around to leave after speaking.

“Andrew,” Neil said, his mouth moving before he fully realized what he was saying.

Andrew turned around at the door to look at him, honey blond hair plastered to his forehead. Despite the drama of the night, Andrew didn’t look tired at all. He still stood strong, looking at Neil with his wide blank eyes.

“Thank you, Andrew,” Neil murmured, voice so soft he could barely hear it.

Perhaps, Andrew couldn’t hear it either. He turned around without a word, shutting the door behind him. 

Neil sighed, and finally stripped out of his sopping clothes. He stepped into the shower, turning the water on. He waited for the temperature to heat up before standing under the spray. The warm water relaxed his muscles, and slowly Neil felt himself relax. Obviously, Neil hadn’t been spending his time of the run covered in filth. Neil knew how to maximize public pools and other facilities in order to ensure he stayed clean. Still, there was something about the privacy, the certainty that he could take as long as he wanted with zero interruptions that Neil hadn’t fully appreciated until this moment. He used the shampoo and conditioner on the ledge of the tub to wash his hair, and then the ivory soap to rub his body down.

He stared at the body wash, advertising a calming vanilla scent, wondering if he should use it. After debating it in his head for several minutes, Neil squeezed a healthy amount of the creamy substance onto his hand before lathering it all over his body. Even once Neil was fully clean, he stayed under the water for just a little longer. He inhaled the smell of vanilla that came off his body, a scent he was so unused to experiencing, especially off his own person. 

He was in a house. A house that he wasn’t squatting in, a place that he was allowed to be. Somewhere he was invited into, with the intention that Neil could stay. For a little while, at least. Neil wanted to make the most of the opportunity until Andrew finally decided to kick him out. After several more minutes of luxury, Neil stepped out of the shower. He shut off the water, and wrapped himself in two fluffy black towels. Belongings of Andrew, Neil noted with some amusement. Everything Andrew owned seemed to be black. Neil stepped outside of the washroom, making his way to Andrew’s bedroom.

He knocked on the door before entering. He expected a voice to holler back. Instead, Andrew came to the door to open his personally.

Andrew stared at Neil. If Neil hadn’t been staring back, he would have missed the flicker of surprise crossing his face.

“You knocked,” Andrew said. His hair still looked damp, but he was wearing dry, fresh clothes. A black shirt t-shirt and sweatpants, with his armbands secure. 

“Of course,” Neil said, confused, “it’s your room. Can I come in?” Neil asked. 

Before Andrew could answer, a small orange ball barreled out of the room and into Neil’s ankles. Creamsicle purred manically, curling around Neil and looking up at him with big eyes.

Smiling, Neil leaned down and picked the kitten up. He was bigger than Neil remembered him being at Ida’s, but still quite small. Definitely the runt of the litter. He looked away from Creamsicle to make eye contact with Andrew, still smiling.

“You let him sleep in your room,” Neil said, voice fond.

“Sometimes,” Andrew said grudgingly. Neil looked down, still smiling. If Andrew didn’t want Creamsicle in his room, Creamsicle wouldn’t be able to find a way in. 

He desperately wanted to peer around Andrew so he could see what his room looked like. He waited, however, until Andrew nodded in acceptance and stepped aside. Neil crossed the threshold, holding Creamsicle in his arms, hearing Andrew close the door behind him. Andrew’s room wasn’t excessively big, but it wasn’t small either. A large bed was in the middle of the room, neatly made with a silky black comforter. Black curtains covered the window, blocking out any potential sunlight. A lamp was on the table beside the bed, casting the room in a golden blaze. Surprisingly enough, Andrew had several tall bookshelves lined across from his bed, packed with books. A part of Neil wanted to step forward and look at all the titles, wondering if they would give them any insight into Andrew. 

There was no desk in the room. No posters or pictures. Nothing to really create a mess – not even clothes on the ground. Andrew must have immediately discarded the dirty clothes he wore to pick up Neil somewhere else. Andrew had a dresser near his closet, but everything was shut away. Outside of the books, the room seemed barren. Despite the emptiness of the room, it still seemed so incredibly Andrew. 

Incorrect, as Neil's eyes re-scanned the room something finally caught his attention. A small pile of neatly folded clothes rested on the corner of the bed. So black they almost blended in with the comforter.

Creamsicle mewled, pawing at Neil to be released. Neil slowly lowered him to the ground, watching him scamper towards the bed and curl up in the middle. Creamsicle thankfully avoided the pile of his clothes in his desperate need to re-claim the bed. Creamsicle also seemed used to being on the bed. Neil wondered, somewhat inanely, if the black comforter was now commonly covered in orange fur. He had a brief image flash through his head: golden Andrew curled up on the bed, a fiery orange and red companion curled up beside him. The image quickly disappeared like smoke, and Neil shook his head to fully get rid of it. 

Andrew walked towards the pile of clothes, picked it up, and then turned around to face Neil. He thrusted the clothes at him. 

“For you,” Andrew said. 

“Thanks,” Neil said, taking the clothes. He paused, awkwardly unsure what to do. “Is it alright if I go back to the washroom to change?” he asked. 

Neil was never comfortable with group nudity. Even as a child he never changed out with the other boys at exy practice. His body from a young age was a mess of scar tissue and burns. Neil knew it would only frighten and gross out other people, and bring about awkward questions. Andrew may not voice the awkward questions aloud, but it would be sharing too much. Right now, Neil could be a runaway kid for a number of reasons. His visit to Ida, which Andrew accompanied him to, already made him look strange enough. His ugly, distorted body would be giving too many pieces of the puzzle to Andrew. Something about Andrew indicated he was far too good at puzzle solving. 

And Neil didn’t know a lot about Andrew, but he knew he was clever. Too clever. Neil’s mother always warned him away from cleverness. 

“Go ahead,” Andrew said, waving a careless hand.

Neil nodded jerkily, pulled away from his ponderous thoughts on Andrew. He dressed quickly and folded the towels, leaving them on the bathroom counter. Andrew’s clothes fit alright. The other boy was only an inch or so taller than him, so there were no awkward lengths to deal with. Andrew left his bedroom door open, clearly in invitation, so Neil walked back inside and shut the door behind him.

Andrew sat on the bed, facing the doorway. Neil lingered awkwardly, not quite sure where to go. 

“Hey,” Neil finally said, voice quiet. 

“Hey,” Andrew said. He pushed himself up more firmly on the bed, taking the spot furthest away from the door. 

Hesitantly, Neil stepped forward. Then another step, and another until he was firmly standing in front of the bed. He made eye contact with Andrew, who said nothing. Slowly, Neil lowered himself down. He assumed the same position as Andrew. Back against the headboard, and legs stretched out in front of him. The bed was large enough that there were still several inches of space between their bodies. Their hands, splayed at their sides, were the only parts of their bodies close to touching. 

Creamsicle laid at their feet, purring contently. His soft little rumbles echoed throughout the room, and Neil felt himself relaxing. Andrew’s bed felt comfortable, and Andrew’s presence beside him, after being absent for so many weeks made Neil feel ways he couldn’t fully understand or explain, even to himself. He tried to understand his affinity to Andrew, but any parallel he tried to create in his head felt far too extreme. He wanted to say he was a drowning man finally being exposed to oxygen – yet, he felt Andrew would only mock the sentiment. 

As he should. Neil felt foolish even thinking it. 

“So,” Neil finally said, turning to look at Andrew. “What school do you go to?”

“Columbia High School,” Andrew said. 

“Cute,” Neil said dryly. “What grade are you in?”

“Junior,” Andrew said, “what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” 

“Didn’t expect it, did you?” Neil said, smiling slightly. Usually Andrew was the one who pelted Neil with questions, that Neil awkwardly answered.

“Nobody ever expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Andrew said. His voice was flat, but Neil thought he saw… something behind his eyes.

Neil laughed. “So, I’ll join you second semester then. In your classes. For junior year.”

Neil had been out of school for quite awhile, and never did junior year. Nevertheless, Neil didn’t see the point of going to the same high school as Andrew unless they were in the same grade. Maybe Neil would be able to swing it so that they would have the majority of their classes together. Neil would need to find out what electives Andrew took so he could take the same. 

“You aren’t a junior,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes.

“I am now,” Neil said, grinning. “Remember, we’re the same age.” 

They definitely were not the same age. Thankfully, Neil’s papers from Ida made them the same age. He was currently faking being sixteen years of age – so he could legally live on his own. His fake birthday would be in March, allowing him to “turn” a whole seventeen years of age. In reality, Nathaniel’s birthday was next month. Where he would at least be legitimately turning sixteen. Of course, Andrew’s birthday – if Neil recalled correctly – was in November, meaning Andrew was already seventeen. 

“Of course, we are,” Andrew said, making it glaringly obvious he didn’t believe him. "I'll tutor you." Neil smiled, feeling pleased. 

“Do you enjoy school?” Neil asked.

“No,” Andrew said. 

“You play exy, though,” Neil said, “I can come to your games.”

A part of Neil, a strong part of him, wanted to say that they could play together. However, Neil was already breaking so many rules. Too many fucking rules. At least he should still follow one of his mother’s strongest rules: forget about exy. 

“My own personal cheerleader,” Andrew said, not sounding terribly impressed.

“Sure,” Neil said, shrugging. “Just don’t expect the skirt.” 

Andrew said nothing. Neil turned to look at him, having expected some kind of mocking comment, at least. Yet, Andrew said nothing. Andrew stared at his lap, chewing on his lip. Neil found himself rather surprised, unused to such gestures on Andrew. Before Andrew had a chance to anything – or for Neil to possibly ask what electives Andrew was taking, he wouldn’t bother to be subtle, after all Andrew would figure him out anyway, there was a knock at the door.

Creamsicle jumped in the air, hissing loudly. His tail went up high. Andrew looked the orange fluff, a rather pleased glint in his eye. He slowly ran his hand down Creamsicle’s back, calming the erratic animal.

“What,” Andrew said, his voice loud.

“It’s six in the morning,” Nicky said, voice high-pitched. “That’s early enough to start the day, you think? Do you two want breakfast?” 

Andrew turned to look at Neil. Neil was going to shrug and indicate for Andrew to choose what he wanted, but his stomach interrupted him with a loud grumble. 

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Nicky,” Andrew said. Neil flushed, ducking his head.

“Cool! Fantastic. Is Neil good with pancakes? I’ll make pancakes,” Nicky said. Neil listened to the sounds of his footsteps walking away, Nicky’s soft, rambling voice fading away with them. 

“Pancakes are fine,” Neil said, looking towards Andrew. “Although, why do I feel like I’ve mainly been surviving off of breakfast foods for the past month.” 

“Because you are a homeless runaway unable to take care of himself,” Andrew said. 

Neil snorted. “Thanks.” 

They stood up from the bed. Creamsicle, to Neil’s surprise, jumped after them. Neil looked down at the small creature weaving between Andrew’s feet as the boy walked towards the door.

“Does Creamsicle follow you everywhere?” Neil wondered aloud.

Andrew looked down at the cat, then at Neil. He blatantly refused to answer, which Neil took as a resounding yes. 

They walked down the stairs, and Neil was surprised to hear foot steps behind them. He turned around and made eye contact with Andrew’s twin brother, Aaron. Aaron looked at him blearily. It didn’t seem like he got a lot of sleep. Neil was uncertain how much time had passed since he and Andrew arrived at the house until now. 

“Can’t sleep with all the fucking noise, you bastards,” Aaron muttered, pushing past Neil and stumbling down the stairs. 

They all landed up in the dining room, which showed a clear view of the kitchen and Nicky’s cooking abilities. Pancakes quickly arrived at the dinning room table, stacked high and all perfectly shaped. Nicky also brought out an array of toppings, including: strawberries, chocolate chips, blueberries, caramel sauce and maple syrup.

Once Nicky sat at the table, the cousins immediately reached towards the food. Neil hesitated, and quickly found a plate with two pancakes on it being shoved at him, courtesy of Nicky, who gave him a winning smile. 

“Might wanna hurry, hun. Unless you want these little monsters to get them all on you,” Nicky said. His fond tone of voice gave him away, though, as he watched Andrew and Aaron eat greedily. 

“Thank you,” Neil said. 

Please, thank you, sorry. All words Neil was unaccustomed to hearing and saying. Nevertheless, he found them not only echoing aloud today, but also creating a non-stop mantra inside his head.

Please, let him keep this. This strange little family

Thank you, for letting him in. Inside this home, inside these clothes.

Sorry, for being such a nuisance. For being a liar. For not being real. 

Yet. Somehow, taking a bite out of blueberry pancakes, Neil never felt more real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for being so late! Life has been kind of wild lately. I've finished up my last year of university, and I'm moving to Japan in seven weeks. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. If you have any questions or even want to just talk (I'm a real friendly person) please contact me at my tumblr: andrewminyard-josten

**Author's Note:**

> That was the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please leave kudos and comment to tell me what you found enjoyable! Your reviews are very much appreciated. 
> 
> To everyone I promised Kevin/Aaron, don't worry.


End file.
